by Mia Knight
“Purple, rose, indigo,” he said before he raised her shirt and prodded the huge bruise on her side she hadn’t noticed until now. She slapped his hand away. “The patterns of violence have always intrigued me. In your case, it’s a cream base broken by black, violet, and more indigo. No broken bones according to Augustus. I love the way skin changes color when it’s damaged.”
Fucking freak.
He grabbed her hands and held them in front of her. Her knuckles were bruised and cut up to hell. Her hands were so swollen that she couldn’t extend her fingers.
“Congratulations,” Lucifer said and inclined his head. “You put up a decent fight. Using your cross was an ingenious move.”
“You killed the Black Vipers?” she asked.
“It didn’t take long.”
“Why?” As far as she knew, Lucifer wasn’t on any side, so why save her life?
“You have spirit and a connection to Gavin. If you survived, he would fetch you, and I’d get another face to face. If you died, he’d come to fetch your body and possibly feel compelled to fight me. Win, win.”
She couldn’t comprehend his logic and didn’t even try to wrap her mind around his explanation.
“Besides, I don’t like when an opponent is outnumbered. You put up a good fight and would have won against a handful, but not in a fight ten to one, and they played dirty.” He moved through an archway into another room. “Come.”
It took a concentrated effort to move. Every step felt as if there were needles jabbing into her feet. She was chilled, sick, sore, and thirsty.
He stepped out of his chambers into a wide, dark hallway. The sound of their steps was absorbed by the cold, rough stone beneath her bare feet. Even with the high cathedral-like ceilings, she felt the beginning pangs of claustrophobia.
He pressed the button for an elevator with a red door. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
She didn’t feel lucky. With a few well-placed questions, Lucifer destroyed the memory of her marriage and all hope for the future. She clasped Vinny’s memory to her like a lucky talisman and now realized it was a poisoned apple.
“I knew you were a fighter.” He clapped her on the back with enough force to make her stagger into the wall. “I’m sure Angel will be here soon.”
The elevator dinged a moment before the doors opened. She peered into the car and saw that it was surprisingly sterile and shiny. What the hell?
“You’re related to Gavin through marriage?” he asked genially.
“Lyla and I are first cousins,” she said warily as she stepped in.
“Lyla was a surprise,” he said as the elevator rose with nauseating speed. “I lost faith in women long ago, but she’s renewed my interest in the opposite sex. She brought some much-needed excitement into Hell.”
The elevator opened onto another poorly lit hallway. Lucifer stepped out and strolled away with his hands in pockets. He didn’t look back at her. For a moment, she debated whether she should make a run for it, but she didn’t have the energy. Technically, he hadn’t tried to kill her yet, so she followed.
As she neared the end of the hallway, she shielded her eyes against the harsh light. Had she stepped outside? She gave her eyes time to adjust before she dropped her hand. She touched her ear, wondering if she had fallen deaf. Despite the crowd walking in every direction, no one made a sound. To the left was a sports bar with a bartender, tables, and TVs mounted on the wall. Straight ahead, the landing dropped off into nothing.
She took tiny steps forward with one hand out for balance and stopped six feet from the drop-off. Wide, obsidian stairs led down to the infamous pit of Hell. The auditorium held enough seats for a Las Vegas headliner. An arena of spectators watched as two men battled on the sand. It was so quiet, the sound of their fists making contact with flesh sounded sharp and clear in her ears.
“From Japan,” Lucifer said quietly as he stopped beside her. “Amazing technique. Shall we?”
He gestured to the bar. She followed slowly in his wake. She could feel what little strength she had ebbing away. She sat heavily at the table he indicated. There was a handful of men in the bar area, and every one of them was staring at her. She kept her eyes on the table. She had no weapons and no fight left. If this was the part where Lucifer tossed her to the dogs, there was nothing she could do to defend herself.
“Here.” Lucifer slapped a can of Coke in front of her.
“Water, please.”
He rolled his eyes and went to the bartender and returned shortly with water. She fumbled with the cap and tipped it to her mouth. Her mouth was so dry, she felt as if she had a dozen cuts in her mouth, but that didn’t stop her from drinking. She set the empty bottle on the table and fought the urge to vomit.
Lucifer tapped his fingers on the table. “Roman’s taking his time.” He glanced at her. “You want chicken wings?”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, we make the best chicken wings on The Strip.”
Just the thought of eating something made her feel sick. “No, thank you.”
“Ah, this is unexpected.”
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw Marcus walking toward her. He was dressed in a black on black suit, no tie. The sight of him sent a shockwave of agony through her entire being. He shouldn’t be here.
A man rose from a table. She saw a flash of steel and opened her mouth to yell, but there was no need. Marcus did some fancy move and slammed the knife into the man’s shoulder. He screeched and fell to his knees. The man’s table companion leaped to his feet and rushed Marcus who managed to keep his feet during the tackle. His attacker reached for his leg, but Marcus grabbed the man’s head and twisted savagely. There was a sharp snap and the man went limp and dropped.
“Friend of yours?” Lucifer asked.
She couldn’t speak. It was Marcus as she had never seen him before. He might look like Pyre Casino’s COO with his hair perfectly styled, but the man approaching her held no resemblance to the man she thought she knew. His face was expressionless, green eyes glittering and cold. His fighting technique was quick, practical, brutal. It was just another side of him she didn’t know existed. He rounded the table to reach her but stopped when Lucifer held up a hand.
“Brave of a fancy pants like yourself to come into my territory,” Lucifer said.
“I’ve been here before,” Marcus said.
He sounded completely in control, which shouldn’t surprise her. No matter the situation, one could always count on him to keep a cool head. She averted her eyes because the sight of him hurt more than anything she had been through since she last saw him.
Lucifer laughed. “I doubt that. You wouldn’t last ten minutes in Hell dressed like that.”
“The last time I was here, I left with Emmanuel Pyre.”
Lucifer’s tapping fingers stopped. She glanced at his face and saw the smile fade. She didn’t know what was going on, but Marcus’s words had a profound effect on Lucifer’s demeanor. His expression became inscrutable, and he examined Marcus with calculated interest rather than amusement.
“So you made it.”
She didn’t understand Lucifer’s quiet tone or the reason behind it.
“What brings you back to Hell?”
“You have something of mine.”
Marcus’s words made her jerk, but she didn’t acknowledge him.
“You must be Marcus,” Lucifer said and draped his arm on the back of her chair. “How fascinating. Carmen’s been annoyingly mum about you.” He gestured between them. “How do you two know each other?”
“I work with Gavin.”
Lucifer clapped twice. “Bravo, Marcus. Made something of yourself, have you? And with Gavin, no less. Impressive.” He glanced at Carmen before he clucked his tongue. “I sense trouble in paradise. I was expecting Roman, actually.”
“She’s mine.”
“Is that so?” Lucifer asked as a scream split the silence.
Angel r
ounded the corner in jeans and a white shirt flecked with blood. He had a stained six-inch knife at his side. Relief calmed her nausea. Angel would get her out of this mess and give her the time she needed to shore up her defenses before she had to deal with life again.
“You have two suitors?” Lucifer asked cattily and nudged her with his elbow. “Which one are you going to choose?”
“I’m going to kill you,” she hissed, and he grinned.
“You can try. I love challenges.”
“Carmen, are you all right?” Angel asked.
She focused on him instead of Marcus. “Yes.”
“Lucifer,” Angel growled. “What the fuck?”
“This isn’t my fault. You should be thanking me. I saved her.”
“Thanks,” Marcus said in a voice that sounded like crushed glass. “Now give her to me.”
“Not without payment. I was hoping for Gavin, but I got you two instead.”
“What do you want?” Marcus asked.
Lucifer waved a vague hand. “Did either of you bring a present? No? How rude. I saved your princess’s life. The least you could do is bring me a fruit basket or a head or something.”
“Lucifer.” Marcus sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth.
“If Gavin came to fetch her, I would have renegotiated more than an annual visit, so what do you two have to offer?”
“What do you want?” Angel asked.
“Presents, a good fight…?”
“Whatever you want, consider it done,” Marcus said.
“You didn’t come the night Lyla was here. Why not?”
“I wasn’t invited.”
“But you can fight.” Lucifer stroked his beard. “You’re trained, probably by Gavin himself. I’d like to see you in a match.”
She went rigid. “No.” Marcus had never killed anyone in his life and only one winner emerged from the pit.
“Done,” Marcus said.
“No, Marcus!” He could die and for what?
“And what about you?” Lucifer asked Angel.
“Going in the pit suits me just fine,” Angel said with a shrug.
Lucifer winked at him. “Bitten by the bug, eh? I hear you’re practicing. Gavin used to be a regular patron. You’re welcome anytime.”
“Lucifer,” she began, but he put a massive paw over her mouth and squeezed.
“How about you two battle each other and then Carmen won’t have to choose?”
She gripped his thumb and twisted his wrist so that his arm bent at an odd angle, but she didn’t have the strength to hold him. Lucifer laughed while Marcus and Angel watched from several feet away.
“I’d rather stay here with you than let them battle in the pit,” she snapped.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Lucifer uncoiled with ease and then tossed an arm over her shoulders. He leaned in close. Marcus took a step forward, but Angel grabbed his arm.
She stared straight ahead as the devil nuzzled her bruised cheek. She suppressed a flinch as he whispered, “I’ve killed men for looking at me the wrong way. Don’t think I can’t end you five different ways with one finger. I’m tempted to kill you just to see the looks on their faces when I pull your little heart from your chest and eat it in front of them.”
Her heart skipped. Duly noted. He wasn’t the king of Hell for nothing.
“Hmm.” Lucifer rested his chin on her shoulder as he regarded Angel and Marcus. “You both care for her, which is interesting. I have to admit, she’s entertaining.” He pressed his cheek to hers as if they were BFFs. “What say you, Carmen? What’s your life worth?”
“Nothing,” she whispered.
He clucked his tongue. “Don’t be so dreary. Two men came to your rescue.”
The silence stretched. None of them moved.
“I like favors,” Lucifer said quietly. “Marcus obviously doesn’t know the art of a bloody fight so maybe a favor is more appropriate in this case. You too,” he said to Angel. “I’ll call on you when I’m ready.”
“Fine,” Angel said and looked at her. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll see you soon,” Lucifer murmured and to Angel and Marcus, “She’s all yours. May the best man win.”
She shrugged off his arm and got shakily to her feet. Marcus was in front of her before she could take a step. When he tried to take her arm, she jerked back, but he wouldn’t be denied. He grabbed a handful of her outfit and yanked her against him.
She shoved against his chest. “Let me go.”
He picked her up and moved swiftly, weaving through the tables. She dropped her face on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and tried to ignore his familiar scent. His grip didn’t slacken as he climbed stairs. She heard a familiar beat and opened one eye. She caught a glimpse of a familiar bar. Before she could place it, he shouldered through a door into the night. She shuddered as cold air penetrated through Lucifer’s thin clothes.
Marcus set her beside his Audi. She glanced around and saw the unlit sign for The Pussycat, the bar where she killed the leader of the Black Vipers.
Marcus cupped her cheek. “Carmen, did he do anything to you?”
She jerked away. “Don’t touch me.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I want my mom.”
“She’s not here, remember? You told me she’s in Utah. We didn’t want to call her until we knew…” His voice trailed off, and then he said with more force, “Gavin and Lyla are on their way back from Bora Bora. Are you hurt?”
The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional destruction Lucifer wrought. She was hanging on by a thread. She needed somewhere quiet and safe to recoup, and it wasn’t with Marcus. His presence wreaked havoc on her control, which was paper thin and getting more tenuous by the second. There was a maelstrom of emotions inside her, trying to break free. She needed to get away from him. Over his shoulder, she spotted Angel leaning against the Bugatti. The knife was nowhere in sight.
“One of the employees at the Red Diamond found Mickey’s body in the parking lot,” Angel said, and Marcus tensed. “Kiki reviewed the footage, saw you were attacked and drugged and called me. Lucifer made sure to stay out of frame, so we couldn’t identify him. We didn’t know if you had been taken by another gang.” Angel’s eyes were piercing as he asked, “Did Lucifer touch you, baby?”
His gentle voice made her eyes burn with tears. She shook her head and held herself more tightly. The one time she was in a really bad bind, Mom and Lyla were out of town. Her life fucking sucked.
Angel pushed off the Bugatti and held out a hand. “You want to come with me?”
Marcus caged her against the car. “She’s coming with me.”
She shook her head and pushed against his chest. She tried to talk, but her throat was closing up as panic swelled in her chest.
“She doesn’t want you, Fletcher,” Angel said.
“We had a misunderstanding,” Marcus countered.
Angel sneered. “A misunderstanding that caused her to go to the strip club where she was attacked?” His eyes gleamed. “A misunderstanding that led to her being in my bed?”
28
Marcus disappeared. One second, he was pinning her against the car, and the next, she was staring at his back with Angel was on the ground at his feet. Angel leaped up and slammed his fist into his jaw. Marcus rammed him into the Bugatti and kneed him in the abdomen.
“Stop!” she shouted.
Angel elbowed his face, which didn’t faze him at all. She reached them as Marcus knocked Angel’s head against the car. She slapped his back.
“Marcus, stop!”
He paused long enough for Angel to get in another blow. Marcus shook himself, turned, and picked her up. He carried her to his car and placed her in the passenger seat. He slammed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. She looked out the window at Angel who sat in his car, watching her as he wiped his bloody lip. Holy shit.
She stared straight ahead as Marcus drove. The only sound in
the car was his harsh breathing. What the fuck was that? What did he care if she hopped in Angel’s bed?
“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said.
His voice was cool and emotionless.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You were drugged, and you’re shaking, pale, and bruised. You need to go to the hospital.”
“I don’t have any broken bones.”
“How do you know?”
“Lucifer had someone examine me.”
“He didn’t touch you?”
“Only to admire my bruises,” she said tonelessly. She wanted to believe it was just a bad dream, but it was all frighteningly real. “You shouldn’t have come for me.”
He marched into Hell and now owed Lucifer a fucking favor. Did he know what that meant? Lucifer could make him do anything.
“You think I would wait around after I heard you were in Hell?” His voice began to shred, allowing some emotion to come through.
“You should’ve let Angel handle it.”
The tension in the car was palpable. She turned her face away and shut him out. She was so drained, she could barely think straight. She was riding headlong toward a breakdown, and there was no safe place in sight.
When the car slowed, she opened her eyes as Marcus pulled into his driveway.
“Take me to a hotel,” she said.
“We’re going to talk.”
“What for? We’re done.”
She was relieved to see her Aston in the garage. When she tried to open the driver’s door, Marcus leaned against it.
“Get in the house,” he said.
She stood there for a full minute, gauging how much energy she had before she gave in. She walked into the living room and stopped. Being here reignited the pain that sent her into destruction mode last night. The recycled pieces from her old life taunted her from every corner of the room. She poured her heart and soul into decorating this house in the hopes of recreating what she had with Vinny, and it had been an epic fail. She needed to get out of here. She started for the front door. She looked like an escapee from an asylum but walking down the street and getting help from a stranger was preferable to facing Marcus. She might not survive it.
